


Marry Me?

by CMMLovr



Series: Newsroom Fanfic Challenge 2015 [2]
Category: The Newsroom (US TV)
Genre: F/M, Fanfic Challenge 2015, February - Freeform, Post-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-22
Updated: 2015-03-22
Packaged: 2018-03-18 23:53:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3588636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CMMLovr/pseuds/CMMLovr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Of course, Sloan has to be incredibly awkward, because it's Sloan. A little bit of Don and Sloan fluff, post-series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Marry Me?

“Let’s get married,” murmurs Sloan surreptitiously.

“What?” yelps Don, hurriedly lowering his voice as Sloan glares pointedly at him, “Where did that come from?”

Silence stretches between them as they sit side-by-side on the church pew, waiting until it’s Sloan’s turn to approach the altar as Leah’s Godmother. Across the pew, Jim (Mac’s choice for Godfather) fires a sharp glance towards the couple, reminding them to keep their voices down.

“What?” repeats Don quietly, his voice barely a whisper.

“Forget it,” replies Sloan sullenly, not wanting to provoke another reaction from him.

“You can’t just say something like that and tell me to forget it, Sloan!” whines Don, his eyes never leaving baby Leah as Will and Mac sit in the pew closest to the altar, Will cradling the sleeping baby gently in his arms.

“I can, and I have. Now, shut up – I don’t want to miss my Goddaughter’s baptism.”

“You started it,” grumbles Don indignantly. Still, he can’t help the way his eyes soften at seeing the baby stir quietly in her father’s arms, completely trusting of him as only an infant can be. Someday, Don would like his own child – would like to have someone who looks at him the same way Leah watches Will (when she’s awake, that is).

“I just – look, can we talk about this later?” replies Sloan hurriedly, standing to cross Don’s legs and join Will and Mac at the altar. At the end of the pew, Jim waits for Sloan to extricate herself (no easy feat in high heels) from the pew before walking down the aisle with her – glancing every so often at Maggie, who beams proudly at him.

The ceremony continues with no further mention of marriage from Sloan or Don, but Sloan can tell that he’s itching to discuss it with her now that she’s brought it up. Rolling her eyes good-naturedly, Sloan squeezes Don’s hand quickly, reassuring him that the conversation will happen; just not here. It’s Leah’s special day, even if she’s too young to know what’s going on (other than the fact that she’s been doused in something that’s very wet, and she very definitively doesn’t like it).

The small party that Mac and Will hold in celebration of Leah’s baptism continues without incident, but Sloan can feel Don hovering as the evening draws to a close. Chuckling lightly, Sloan appeases Don, pressing a kiss to her Goddaughter’s forehead before bidding Will and Mac goodnight and thanking them for a thoroughly enjoyable evening. 

Don is fidgety the entire cab ride home – he desperately wants to start this conversation, if only because he’s been waiting for the right time to broach the subject himself. But, as usual, Sloan had him beat. Finally, the cab stops outside their apartment after an agonising twenty-minute journey, and Sloan takes his hand as they exit the car. They make it up to the apartment before Don finally bursts, unable to contain himself any longer.

“So…marriage,” he begins lamely, not wanting to admit that he’d been completely (pleasantly) blind-sided by her…proposal.

“Yep,” replies Sloan maddeningly, hardly paying attention as she fiddles with the straps on her heels.

“Sloan, look at me,” requests Don slowly, grateful when she acquiesces. “I love you – you know that – and I – I’ve been waiting until I thought you were ready for this discussion – you just caught me off guard at the church.”

“What’s new?” smiles Sloan, content (but unwilling to admit) that her concern had been assuaged: she had thought briefly that his reaction might’ve been because he didn’t know how to tell her that he wasn’t ready for that, yet.

“Look smartass, you’re the one who decided to ambush me in a _church_ ,” teases Don fondly. Sloan merely chuckles in response, taking his face in her hands briefly to peck him on the lips.

“So, what’s the verdict?” asks Sloan cautiously.

“Well, you just had to steal my thunder, didn’t you?” prods Don, laughing at her awkward expression. But, this felt like the right time to him. “Just – give me a second, okay?” he grins broadly, leaving Sloan dumbstruck in the hallway as he dashes to their room, digging a small black box out from inside a pair of his (never used) running socks. Returning to find Sloan in exactly the same position, Don moves to face Sloan completely, his expression earnest.

“I know we’ve only been dating for a little while,” he hedges softly, “but I’ve loved you since…I’ve loved you for as long as I’ve known you, even if _I_ didn’t know it yet.” He smiles briefly at her, nervous now that this is _actually_ happening. It’s not like he’s rehearsed this. Her face softens at his words, but she remains silent – shocked and touched beyond belief. He’d had time enough to get a ring – he’d been waiting for _her_ to feel comfortable enough. The thought alone is enough to make her want to tear up a little; instead she smiles, waiting for him to continue. “Sloan, these last few months have been the best of my life – and I hope, yours, too – and there’s nothing I’d like more than to spend the rest of my life with you, if that’s what you’d like, too.” Taking her smaller hand between his, Don inhales deeply, shakily, before pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “Sloan,” he murmurs, “let’s get married?”

Shaking her head slightly, Sloan blinks, clearing her eyes of the mist that has formed, and clearing her throat before breathing a soft, “yes”, choking back a combination of laughter and tears.

Relief floods Don’s face before being replaced with joy as he pulls Sloan towards him, bringing his lips to hers ecstatically as he feels her tears slide onto his cheek. They break apart laughing, and Don fumbles slightly with the box in his rush to get it open. Finally succeeding, Don reaches gently for Sloan’s hand once more, sliding the ring he’d so painstakingly chosen onto her finger contentedly. He glances down at their joined hands, and can’t help the slightly hysterical laugh that bubbles through his lips at the sight of Sloan wearing _his_ ring. He’d never have believed that this was possible, three years ago.

“I love you, Don Keefer,” mumbles Sloan wetly, her face tucked into the crook of his neck as she burrows into his arms.

“I love you too, Sloan Sabbith,” laughs Don, only having to consider _Sloan Keefer_ for a second before realising that it doesn’t have the same ring to it.

No, she’ll always be _his_ Sloan Sabbith.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!  
> Thanks for reading :) This was written for Lilacmermaid's Newsroom Fanfiction Challenge 2015, following the rules of February's prompt: the fanfic has to start with the line "Let's get married".  
> Hope you've enjoyed reading it!


End file.
